


Wherein Jim quotes poetry but Uhura is not impressed

by kayliemalinza



Series: Rambleverse [48]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Kayliemalinza's Rambleverse, Pike's Reclaimed Captaincy (Rambleverse Timeline)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-20
Updated: 2010-03-20
Packaged: 2017-12-25 21:30:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/957810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayliemalinza/pseuds/kayliemalinza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yet another weird alien greeting ritual, yet another chance for Kirk to mack on his totally ungrateful-yet-hot friends.</p><p>Teaser: Jim really should be turning back to watch the Emissary now but he holds eye contact for just a few seconds more so Uhura can witness the torment deep within his soul. "I'm making a list of all the times you've broken my heart, and this moment is going on it," he says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wherein Jim quotes poetry but Uhura is not impressed

**Author's Note:**

> Standard warning for boys-will-be-boys rhetoric. See end notes for more discussion.

The Emissary is falling over himself to make them feel at home on his planet. Literally. It's a local gesture which signifies that the ground itself is yielding, and that's clever and all, but honestly Jim would feel a lot more welcome if the Emissary's ceremonial garb were a bit longer. Bones nearly talked himself blue in the face explaining that the appendage down there is a secondary feeding tube and is in no way analogous to male genitalia, but Jim's personal philosophy is, "if it looks like a dick, and flops like a dick, and spurts like a dick, it's a dick."

Of course Jim doesn't have anything against dicks in principle, and the Emissary isn't necessarily bad to look at: the patch of blue spots on his lower left flank is particularly fetching, for one thing, and while Jim generally prefers women to have the monopoly on voluptuous curves he's an open-minded kind of guy. If Jim and the Emissary were tucked into a cozy nook somewhere Jim wouldn't mind some flirting but, alas, they are not in a nook. They're in a reception hall that's been carved into the side of a mountain and while Jim should probably be watching the Emissary's gymnastics with polite, if not enraptured attention, he's instead sneaking glances at the cave opening.

There's _sunlight_ over there. It's weak compared to an Iowan mid-day and the seasonal pollen makes everything look a little torquoise, but despite those imperfections it consists of genuine light waves emitted by a genuine ball of superheated gas filtered through a genuine oxygenated atmosphere and it makes grass grow, ok, enormous fields of grass populated by furry creatures that look sort of like puppies if you squint. This is a big deal when you live on a spaceship.

Jim leans back until Uhura notices and steps up behind him, ready to whisper a cultural explanation into his ear or get kissed if he's sneaky enough. Jim is most definitely sneaky enough--he has extensive training in stealing kisses, in fact--but there's a time and a place for everything. The time for kissing Uhura, he has been informed, is "when Hell freezes over." The place has not yet been determined but that's something of a moot point.

"Do you have a question, Commander?" Uhura asks.

"Yeah," says Jim. "Are they going to let us outside at some point? I mean, as long as he's doing all that bouncing around we might as well play a game of Red Rover, right?"

There's a brief pause during which Uhura may be counting silently to ten or she may be smiling indulgently. Jim would be ok with either, but he totally caught Uhura gazing longingly outside when they beamed into the cavern so she better not make a smart remark, or he'll call her out.

Finally Uhura says, "There is a ceremony similar to Duck, Duck, Goose which is customarily performed in an open field."

"Awesome!" Jim whispers back, careful to continue observing the Emissary with an expression of neutral pleasantness. "When do we get to do that?"

"I believe Captain Pike participated in that ceremony earlier," Uhura answers. "It would be redundant and potentially offensive for us to do it as well."

Jim turns his head to look at her. She manages to pull back a few inches just before their lips brush, which is another pang of disappointment on top of the crippling emotional blow he has just received. "Why does he get recess and I don't?" he asks, sounding betrayed.

Uhura sounds far too pleased when she answers, "Because he's the captain." She's a classy lady so she doesn't add _and you're not_ in a sing-song voice but she's totally thinking it, he can tell.

Jim really should be turning back to watch the Emissary now but he holds eye contact for just a few seconds more so Uhura can witness the torment deep within his soul. "I'm making a list of all the times you've broken my heart, and this moment is going on it," he says.

"Shouldn't you have started that list years ago?" she asks, and flashes him a smile that would appear sympathetic to anyone else. Jim is savvy to her ways, however, and knows that she is deriving pleasure from his pain.

No problem. Jim will derive pleasure from causing her pleasure derived from his pain. See how she likes them apples.

He cozies his mouth right up to her ear, summons up his best poetry voice and recites, " _All old wounds / bleed fresh and freely. / Yesterdays are knives / you hide / in heated sheaths called eyes._ "

When he pulls back to check, Uhura's face has gone hard and suspicious. That means she either does not recognize the verse, or she recognizes it and resents the implications of the second stanza. Jim really hopes it's the latter, because while he would immensely enjoy knowing something she doesn't, the second stanza is excellent jack-off material.

Jim smiles a sweet smile. It's the sweetest smile in the universe, in fact, and he knows this because his mom told him so.

"It is advisable that you display greater consideration of the Emissary's performance, Commander," Uhura snaps, and fades back into the shadows.

"Yes ma'am," murmurs Jim, and obediently faces front. He feels warm and tingly inside, almost as good as basking in the sun.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written in the context of my Rambleverse series, which contains slow-burn Kirk/Uhura D/s, and also in the context of the "enlightened" Star Trek universe, where it can be safely assumed that Uhura's agency and consent is not impeded by systemic oppression. However, the real-world context (and J. J. Abram's version of Star Trek, tbh) does push this into a definite gray area. YMMV.


End file.
